


The armchair

by KyryeDuBarie



Series: BAKT and the kinks [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, And bad use of furniture, Cock Warming, Dirty Talk, Edgeplay, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Overstimulation, PWP without Porn, Sex Toys, Skype Sex, a bit - Freeform, this is just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26576476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyryeDuBarie/pseuds/KyryeDuBarie
Summary: Kei props his phone up on a stack of pillows and groans, throwing an arm to hide the redness creeping over his cheeks. “Oh this is your fault, Kuroo, shut up.”The older man lifts a hand to his chest in mock offense. “My fault? Tsukki, I just wanted a nice, comfy armchair-“ he says, licking his lips lasciviously, “-you’re the one that made it dirty.”
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Bokuto Koutarou/Tsukishima Kei
Series: BAKT and the kinks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965478
Comments: 16
Kudos: 432





	The armchair

**Author's Note:**

> I... wasn't supposed to be writing today. I don't know I just- This is filth, a lot of filth and I like it but it was also written in a three hour coffee-manic-rush-episode-thing.  
> (it's NOT the A/B/O thing, that already grew a plot and I'm working through it slooowly, ccuz it's gonna be long)  
> So yeah. Hope y'all like it.  
> Any kinks were, of course, discussed off screen.  
> Oh god

“Got the takeout,” Kei mumbles into his phone, pressing it between his cheek and shoulder as he rummages through the pocket of his hoodie for the apartment keys. “And some wine.”

There’s a chuckle from the other end of the line. “Is that for him or for you?” Akaashi asks, and Kei can almost see the intense stare that the dark-haired man would be giving him if he were here.

Despite himself, he feels his cheeks burn. “Both?” He says, finally managing to open the door, eyes straining a little in the twilight. “The steak form that place goes well with red.” He says though he knows that’s not exactly what Akaashi was asking.

“You still have some time, get a glass of wine,” Akaashi says as the door closes behind Kei, and he lays the takeout boxes on the table. “Want us to help you relax a little?”

Kei bites his lower lip, nervous, an involuntary whimper escapes him. “Let's do that.” He says, quickly uncorking the bottle and pouring some wine in one of the fancy glasses that they got from Kuroo’s dad for Christmas last year.

“Ok, switch to video call, Tetsu is just getting out of the shower, we’ll both be there for you.” Akaashi always knows how to help his nerves, Kei feels the tension melting from his shoulders, it’s true, he has time before Bokuto’s practice ends. And if he’s going to do this terribly embarrassing thing that Akaashi suggested, he definitely needs their support.

He heads for the bedroom, absentmindedly stripping off his sweatpants as soon as he reaches the bed. His phone screen goes dark, then lights up so he’s facing two pairs of mischievous eyes.

“Hey, moonshine.” Kuroo grins at him. He seems to be both obnoxiously naked and obnoxiously wet, with his arm thrown over Akaashi’s squared shoulders. “You’re really doing it, huh? I’m a little jealous.”

Kei props his phone up on a stack of pillows and groans, throwing an arm to hide the redness creeping over his cheeks. “Oh this is your fault, Kuroo, shut up.”

The older man lifts a hand to his chest in mock offense. “My fault? Tsukki, I just wanted a nice, comfy armchair-“ he says, licking his lips lasciviously, “-you’re the one that made it dirty.”

There isn’t any actual objection Kei can make to that, after all. He shoots Kuroo a dirty look, fighting the urge to stick out his tongue like a five-year-old. Wine night with his boyfriends always seems to end up with at least one of them suggesting something embarrassing that sounds way too good not to try out.

Besides, Akaashi’s voice can convince _anyone_ of _anything_.

He reaches for his glass of wine on the nightstand, free hand sliding under the pillow for the stuff he left there, ready this morning.

The pretty, shiny lavender glass plug winks at him in the lowlights. “Ok, now I’m very, very jealous.” Kuroo groans from the screen. “Think you can record it?”

“Not if you keep looking at me like that, I’ll combust,” Kei says as Akaashi comes back into view with a bottle of lotion. Wordlessly, he pours some of it on his hands and begins rubbing it over Kuroo’s bare shoulders.

He smiles softly at Kei. “Well, we can compromise on that-“ he says, his lips are pink and shiny, and Kei remembers just how he got the idea in the first place, it had a lot to do with that mouth biting his thighs and tearing every fantasy he had about the armchair-although admittedly, those were there from the start- right out of it. “I can call in a bit, see how you’re doing. We already told Kou that you have a little surprise for him.” He grins, hands gliding down to caress the taut skin of Kuroo’s neck, thumbs pressing briefly at the points where his pulse feels the strongest

Kuroo groans, deep and low, eyelids fluttering shut, and Kei drains the glass of wine, feeling a little warm already. “That might be good,” he says, almost a whisper, it’s a wonder the two others can hear him at all.

“Alright baby,” Akaashi says.

“Might wanna start preparing for it though,” Kuroo says, voice low and raspy, eyes half-lidded. “You know how taking Bo can be.” Kei licks over his lips, hand already starting to slip under the waistband of his boxers. Bokuto is thick, hard to take sometimes, and if he’s planning to- “God, you’re so pretty.”

Kei flushes red, wrapping a hand around himself, he’s already hard enough that it makes him groan. It’s both the anticipation and the way that Kuroo can make faces that ook that lewd from a massage. “I agree,” Akaashi says quietly, leaning over Kuroo’s shoulder for a second to bite ver the shell of his ear. “Get on your front? I want to see you getting ready for Kou.”

“You're all pervs,” Kei grumbles, but does as told, it’s easier this way.

Kuroo laughs. “ _You_ had this idea babe,” he says, as Kei shoves his underwear down to his knees, the cold air of the apartment making goosebumps break out over the newly bred skin, “And a couple others... Not that I don’t think it’s hot, though I’m pretty sure you two won't last through the whole episode, you're so hard already.”

All Kei can do is glare at him, and even that must not look too menacing, he's on his knees and chest on the bed, t-shirt riding up, underwear around his ankles. His free hand reaches out for the half-full bottle of lube beside the plug and he squirts a generous amount on his fingers.

Akaashi grins at the camera. “That’s it Kei, let's get you all loose and ready ok? We have some time, we can play a little while Kou gets home.”

One of his fingers pushes past the rim of his hole and Kei moans. These two are going to be the death of him even before he does the very _thing_ they all discussed for tonight, aren’t they?

On the screen, Akaashi squeezes at Kuroo’s left shoulder, hard, and the older man groans. It sends Kei reeling, pushing his finger deeper, he's so far gone already.

.

.

It’s a decently warm night, the kind that Koutaro likes to stroll through, not run because he gets all sweaty.

So he strolls, almost skips through the familiar streets that lead to the apartment he shares with his partners from the gym where his current team practices. It has been a tough few days, what with Akaashi and Kuroo away to Osaka for both a convention and some sort of regional management meeting.

Not that he minds being alone with Tsukishima, but after all the bumping and elbowing the first few weeks, they’ve all gotten used to sleeping together and the absence of Kuroo and Akaashi on the bed is glaring to both of them.

They’ll be home in a couple of days, though, and apparently, Tsukishima has some sort of gift for him today -so Akaashi told him earlier- which only makes him more curious -as long as the blond didn’t try to cook, that’s usually not a good kind of surprise-.

He arrives at the apartment yawning a little, feeling that good kind of sore that’s telling of a good workout.

He opens the door to find a couple takeout boxes from his favorite place on the table. It makes his mouth water.

Then he looks around for his boyfriend, he finds Tsukishima draped sideways over the new armchair, long legs hanging off one of the armrests. The thing is ridiculously wide and comfortable, they have all been bickering over who gets to sit on it when they watch Netflix at night.

“Hi, Tsukki.” He says, leaning over the cushioned back of the chair to grin at his boyfriend. “Sleepy?”

But Tsukishima doesn’t seem sleepy at all, he bolts up, cheeks flushed pink, his golden irises barely a ring around his dilated pupils. “Hi, Kou.” He says, leaning up to press a short kiss to his lips. “No, no I was just daydreaming.” He says, tugging at his fingers.

Koutarou reaches for his face, cupping it in one hand. “Are you ok? You look a little feverish?” he asks, and Tsukishima leans into his palm, sighing a little in a way that makes Koutarou’s heart beat fast and somehow clench at the same time. “Do you want me to bring you something?”

“I'm fine.” He says, sucking that pink bottom lip between his teeth, eyes wide and glassy. “Akaashi said-“ he stops, but Koutarou understands anyways.

“Yeah!.”He leans down to press a wet kiss to Tsukishima’s cheek. “You got me takeout from my favorite place! You’re too sweet Tsukki, I love you.”

Tsukishima looks at him for a second, eyes widening a little as if on disbelief, but then he chuckles, fondness filling his face, and he tugs Koutarou’s head so their mouths meet again.

Nice.

Koutarou does his best to walk around the armchair and keep kissing him at the same time. The blonds being very forward today, sucking at Koutarou’s lips and tongue, little whimpers escaping him. “Were you feeling horny Tsukki?” Koutarou teases when they part, though the answer’s right in front of him, Tsukishima is panting, all flushed, with that determined-yet-embarrassed look to his face that Koutarou so loves. “Want me to take you to bed?”

The blond’s eyebrows rise like he's trying to hide how obviously aroused he is. “Food’s going to get cold Kou.” He says, even as he arches up into Koutarou’s touch. “Don’t be impatient.” He huffs, finally seeming to get a little more control over himself.

Koutarou laughs. “Well, I don’t mind cold food, but if it’s what my princess wants…” he offers Tsukishima a hand to help him get up, only now noticing that the blond is only wearing one of Koutarou’s old hoodies -it's black- and dark, knee-length socks.

He’s probably wearing boxers too, but Koutarou can’t tell, the hoodie is big even on him and it hangs down on Tsukishima just far enough that he can't be sure. The blond wobbles a little as he stands, and walks past Koutarou. “Get some plates Ko-“

It was really unavoidable, those long, creamy legs, the tease of the hoodie. Koutarou squeezes Tsukishima’s cheek softly. “Why do you look so good? Can’t we hold off on dinner?” he says, pressing his front to Tsukishima’s back.

The blond whimpers. “Be patient, you brute.” His voice is breathy, barely carrying any weight. "The food-

Koutarou turns his head to the side to mouth at the blond’s neck and he squeezes just a little tighter. The effect is instantaneous, Tsukishima arches his back, grinding his bottom on Koutarou’s hip. And it’s only then that Koutarou feels the hard little edge and he can’t help all his blood rushing south. “T-Tsukki, are you-“

Tsukishima rushes forward, out of his grasp. “It was a surprise. “He hisses, gaze on the ground, ears bright red.

Koutarou rushes forward to wrap his arms around the blond’s shoulders. “Well I love it,” he murmurs against the neck of the blond’s neck. “What did you want me to do with my surprise Tsukki?” he asks, rubbing his -by now very obvious- hard-on over Tsukishima’s behind.

“Tch.” Tsukishima huffs. “I- remember what we talked about last Friday?” he asks bashfully. “Before going to bed?”

Koutarou tries, they _were_ quite drunk and the night did end on a lot of things that don’t quite constitute talking, he keeps holding Tsukishima tight to his chest. It takes a while, he feels Tsukishima getting ready to talk, gathering a little courage before a light bulb finally goes off in his brain. ”Oh-“ and it promptly short-circuits. “ _Yes, Tsukki.”_ He groans. “Yeah, I remember, is that why you wanted to have dinner first?”

The blond nods, turning his head around to place a little kiss to Koutarou’s arm. “I picked a TV show too.” He smirks. “But you really have to let me go now.”

That- He can see how that might be a requirement, Koutarou slowly unwinds his arms from Around Tsukishima’ shoulders. “I’ll get the plates!” He calls, already on his way to the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the blond stumbling a little before he composes himself and heads for the takeout boxes on the table.

It’s probably the quietest dinner that they’ve had in a while, and the shortest, they both keep looking down at their plates, similar blushes on their faces.

“So, ‘Kaashi-“ Koutarou says when he’s mostly called down and it’s only the wine that’s left to drink. “-you planned this with him?”

Tsukishima dabs at his mouth with a napkin. “Not really, he may have suggested, but I only told them today.” He smiles a little. “Tetsu is a bit jealous.”

“Well, no shit-“ Koutarou blurts out, a grin taking over his face. “But we can make it up to him when they come home.”

Tsukishima hums in response, rising off his seat on legs that are just a little unsteady, but of course, Koutarou notices. “You look pretty worked up, tho’. Did they help you prepare?” He says, rising too and rounding the table so he’s looking his boyfriend in the eye.

The blond scoffs. “Well I wouldn’t call it help-“ he groans as Koutarou reaches for the edge of the hoodies and pulls him close by his hips. “They said they’d call later.” He whimpers, eyes fluttering shut. Koutarou leans down and wraps an arm around the back of his knees, the proceeds to lift him up off his feet. “To see how- Kou-“

“I can't have you falling before my surprise.” He grins at Tsukishima’s red face. “Not my pretty princess.” He says as he walks them both to the armchair, carefully maneuvering Tsukishima so he ends up leaning back on his lap, legs thrown over one armrest.

Tsukishima narrows his eyes at him. “You’re a menace.” He huffs, settling down a little.

“But you are, Tsukki!" Koutarou insists, laughing. “Want me to call you highness, then?”

Huffing out a laugh, Tsukishima pushes himself up, slipping his leg over Koutarou’s so he’s straddling him. “Call me whatever you want Kou, but get going.” He says, eyes filled with want.

A short instant of clarity fills Koutarou, though his hands are already slipping under the hoodie to tug down Tsukishima’s boxers. “’Kaashi didn’t let you come, did he?”

The exasperated hum that the blond makes as he helps Koutarou take the garment off his legs is answer enough. So is the drawn-out moan when one of his hands sneaks to the other’s behind to tug lightly at the plug. “Poor princess.” He chuckles, leaning up to press a sloppy kiss to Tsukishima’s pretty mouth. “Turn around and put on that show Tsukki.”

The blond gets off the armchair, t’s too far to reach the remote on the coffee table from there.

He takes the chance to rid himself of his pants and underwear, breathing a sigh of relief as his hard cock finally springs free. He doesn’t think he went soft even while they had dinner. The prospect of having his pretty, prim boyfriend cockwarm him too much of a turn on.

The TV comes on, and truly, Koutarou doesn’t pay any attention to whatever Tsukishima has put on -it’s some new show, and that’s as far as his mind gets-.

Tsukishima walks back towards him, those tantalizing pale legs making a show of themselves as he tries to figure out how to get back on the chair.

“Come here, babe, bend forward,” Koutarou says, and Tsukishima breathes does, so docile he must be right on the edge, knowing his boyfriend. The hoodie rides up and Koutarou can see the lower curves of his ass. He reaches forward and tugs it up, the flared end of the glass plug barely coming into view.

Tsukishima whimpers. “You’re staring.”

Koutarou laughs. “Get me to an ER the day I don't.” He says, giving the plug a little flick. “You got the big one in,” he states, feeling a little giddy already, one of his hands reaches down to stroke his hardness and he has to bite his lip not to groan.

“Well, you are obnoxiously big s-“ Koutarou tugs at it, Keeping Tsukishima’s cheek spread with the other. “Koutarou-“ it’s more whimper than word, Tsukishima’s thighs are shaking, slightly parted.

Fuck it.

He can tease more later.

“Lube?”

“Under the right armrest. “Tsukishima answers, thighs parting further as he scoots closer.

Koutarou wastes no time, he uses the bottle to pour a good amount of lube directly over his cock, shivering at the cold, while his other hand plays with the plug, tugging it out just slightly before he pushes it in s far as it'll go. He can see the place where Tsukishima’s precome is already dripping on the floor. “You sure you’re good like this Tsukki?”

“It’s the big one Kou-“ Tsukishima grits out as Koutarou tugs further, the wide base of the plug coming into view as he keeps tugging. "I can- I, c'mon-"

The litany of curses that spills from his boyfriend's mouth then makes his head spin as he pulls the rest of the plug out, gently coercing Tsukishima to get on the chair on his knees, legs bracketing Koutarou’s hips.

He looks sinful, with Koutarou’s hoodie riding high on his waist, and his pink, perfectly stretched hole on display. When those thighs start to shake, Koutarou wraps his hands around Tsukishima’s thin waist steadying him. “Shh, I’ve got you.” He mumbles.

And he does.

Tsukishima twists, looking back. His eyes are a little teary, and Koutarou can’t help himself as he uses his leverage on the blond’s waist to guide him back on his cock.

The head breaches Tsukishima’s rim without much resistance and the blond keens. “Kou, come o-“

“I said I had you Tsukki.” He grans, almost losing himself in the heat and the way the blond clenches around him. “Imma fill you up princess, just trust me.”

He does it slowly, by the time Tsukishima is fully sitting on him, he’s shaking badly, toes curled tight. Koutarou takes pity on him, so cute, so wound up, reaches forward to wrap a hand around the blond’s neglected length. “No- KOU- Ahh- Fuck!” He registers the words way too late, Tsukishima’s back arches, hands clenching on the fabric of the armrests as he reaches his climax.

His hole spasms around Koutarou, and all he can do is keep the blond’s hips flush against his and bite his lip, trying not to follow his boyfriend, who collapses back on Koutarou’s chest, panting, eyes glassy and unfocused. “’m sorry.” He huffs out. “Wanted to do that- h- but-“

Koutarou rubs his hands over the other’s thighs softly, almost like he's soothing Tsukishima. “Don’t worry, babe.” He says, resisting the urge to thrust up into that tight heat. “Besides, we’e not done?”

.

.

Kei is in that floaty place.

That floaty, soft place where he knows he’s shivering and panting but he’s not really in control enough to care or do anything about it.

He can feel the rumbles of Bokuto’s groans on his back, but the older man stays mostly still, hands gently brushing up and down Kei’s thighs, occasionally adding just a little bit of nail. In front of them, whatever Kei picked is playing on the TV. He doesn’t even really remember what it was.

He probably couldn’t even if he wanted to, he knew he was going to cum the moment Bokuto was all in, especially after earlier Akaashi decided to make him edge on the plug, _twice_.

 _Fuck_.

“Better, Kei?” Bokuto coos in his ear, voice as sweet as the warm hands on his thighs. “You went away for a little there, are you ok?”

“Mmmm” Kei heaves in a breath. “’m good.”

Bokuto hesitates, his warm breath fanning over Kei’s ear. “Are you sure, I can pull-“

“I’m fine K-Kou.” Kei stammers, trying to breathe correctly, he can feel himself getting lightheaded. “Just- full.”

Koutarou laughs, booming against Kei’s back. “Isn’t that kind of the point?” He kisses Kei’s cheek as well as he can. “Sorry, though, if I knew you were that close, I wouldn't have-”

Kei leans back, the movement makes Bokuto brush up against his prostate and he shivers. “It’s fine, Akaashi made me edge, I wasn’t going to last enough to do this anyway.” He huffs, still trying to get his breath under control. “You feel good.”

Bokuto groans. “Why are you so sexy? It's not fair Tsukki.”

Kei smirks. “I was only stating a fact,” he chuckles. “Now stop talking or we’re gonna prove them right.”

“Hmm.” There’s a small shift behind Kei and Bokuto pulls him impossibly closer. “What did they say?”

Kei closes his eyes, head lolling to the side as pleasure rolls over him. “That we wouldn’t make it five minutes.”

Bokuto huffs out a laugh. “Mean!! We have self-control.”

“They are.” Kei agrees as the owl’s arms wrap around his waist.

It gets a little easier before it gets very, very hard. It starts with Bokuto wiggling, once in a while, and Kei coming down from his orgasm fully. He can feel himself impaled on Bokuto’s cock, greedier for friction every second, the urge to push back, to quite literally _bounce_ on it just grows.

Every accidental little touch makes Kei jolt up, moaning, and he feels like his brain is melting every time Bokuto loses a bit of his grip on his own body and thrusts up.

To their credit they make it half an hour, counting everything, and then Kei’s phone starts ringing, lost somewhere in the cushions of the armchair. Bokuto jumps, turning Kei’s “Akaashi-“ into a moan.

The owl gets the phone from the space between the seat and the armrests of the couch, Kei tries to grab it, but in the position he is in, he can’t do much when Bokuto holds it out of his reach. The Owl grins devilishly at him before checking the angle of the preview and accepting the video call.

“Holy fuck!” Kuroo and Akaashi seem to be sitting in a similar position as them, with Akaashi in Kuroo’s lap, they both seem to be dressed though. “They’re still- Keiji- “

Akaashi smiles that kind smile of his, but his eyes are full of mischief. “You look good like that.” He says, looking at Kei, then his gaze drifts to Bokuto. “Was he well prepped, Kou?”

Bokuto heaves a breath. “You know he was 'kaashi. He was perfect.” He says, eyes half-lidded, the hand on Kei’s thigh clutches at the soft flesh, hard enough to bruise and make him moan, he's so aroused he can't really tell pleasure form pain at this point. “Took me in one second and came right after.” He smiles Kei’s way. “Such a good little princess.”

The two on the other side seem a little stunned until Kuroo smirks, that is, eyes raking over Kei’s form with such heat that it makes Kei shiver. “Really?” he asks, licking his lips. “Were you a good little slut for Kou, Kei?”

Kei glares at him. “Y-you two made me-“ he feels even more blood rising to his cheeks, his legs tense up even more. “It’s normal.”

“Technically _Akaashi_ made you.” Kuroo points out, his mouth in a razor-sharp smirk that Kei wants to bite off it. He leans to the side to nibble at Akaashi’s neck. “I was just along for the slutty, slutty show.”

Though he has never figured out why he likes being called names during sex, Kuroo has made it his mission in life to make Kei come just from his voice when he calls him so. A breath catches in his throat when he feels his dick twitch. “Tetsu-“

“Take off that hoodie babe.” Kuroo cuts him off, a dangerous glint in his eyes, that makes Kei want to give the dark-haired man anything he wants.

And so he does, the movement makes Bokuto’s cock twitch inside him, which in turn makes Kei lose his balance and almost fall forward, mind going blank for a second. Bokuto’s large, warm hand catches him, though, pulling him back as Kei tugs the hoodie over his head. The first thing he sees as soon as it is off is Akaashi’s face on the screen. “That’s much better.” He says as Kei settles back against Bokuto’s chest. “Grab the phone Kei, let us see you.”

“Go ahead.” Bokuto purrs into his ear as he hands Kei the phone. “I want to touch you.”

So Kei grabs it, which turns out to be a big mistake, because as he's dying from embarrassment at how debauched he looks in the little window to the edge of the screen, Bokuto decides that it’s enough his mouth latches to that place behind Kei’s ear that makes him lose any consciousness or decorum, and his hands draw burning paths up his ribs until fingers calloused from more than a decade of volleyball are rolling and tugging at his nipples.

He almost drops the phone.

And the wanton wail that leaves him when Bokuto twists them a little harder makes even Kuroo blush on the other side of the screen. “Are you going to come again Kei?”

He asks, and if Bokuto moved just a little, if he grabbed Kei’s hard, leaking cock, he just might, he thinks.

Kei shoots the screen a dirty look. “Shut u-ahhhh-“ Bokuto doesn't even let him finish, it’s just a little thrust, but to Kei’s strung out, overstimulated body it’s enough to make everything stop as the wave of pure heat fills him.

“Mmm, I think you really teased him too much, Keiji.” He hears Kuroo say. “I don’t think he’s going to last.”

There’s a throaty laugh, and Kei’s eyes finally manage to focus on the screen, he’s still holding the phone out, though to an awkward angle. “Well, that’s two of them,” Akaashi says, there’s a flush across his nose and cheeks, and his hand seems to be moving suspiciously off the screen. “Look at Kou’s face, he’s going to snap soon.”

Kuroo laughs. “Think Kei can ride him?”

There’s a hum. “I’m not sure, look at how he’s shaking.” Akaashi’s sharp eyes assess Kei, he feels so open, he might cover himself if he had the presence of mind to do so. “I have a better idea, Kei’s pretty flexible.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows rise. “Are you thinking?”

“Yes.” Akaashi’s blue eyes turn to Kei. “Put your legs over the armrests Kei.” He says voice tinged with just that little bit of breathlessness that lets Kei know how much the usually stoic man is feeling this.

It’s not particularly easy, Kei does manage to get his left leg out from under him and hook it over the armest, but the moment he tries to get his weight off the other he realizes just why Akaashi wanted him to do this.

The angle is so deep, the curve of Bokuto’s cock os pressed right against his prostate and making him see stars with the smallest shift.

He almost falls down, off Bokuto and the chair entirely. But then there are gentle hands helping his leg stretch into position. And then he's holding Kei up. Even like this, Bokuto is strong enough to keep Kei’s hips just that little bit higher so he can get in position. His thumbs brush lovingly over Kei’s hipbones before he grins at the camera. “Shows over.” He says, voice low and possessive. “Love you two. But I gotta fuck Kei now.”

Kei can only man at Kuroo’s offended face before he throws the phone to the other couch, it’s not like they would’ve been able to see anything with what’s about to happen.

Behind him, Bokuto groans, there’s a little huff and a whisper in his ear. “You feel too good Tsukki.” He says. “I can’t- Can I?”

Kei’s voice is a whimper when he answers, head falling back on Bokuto’s shoulder. “Please Kou.” He answers, filled with both wonder and want, at how soft, how loving that sounded.

Bokuto doesn’t need anything else, the buildup has been so long neither of them has time for games. He thrusts up into Kei, fast and hard, enough that he has to grip the armrests tightly in order not to fall off.

All the rationale he has left, everything else comes pouring out of his mouth every time Bokuto thrusts inside of him, perfectly milking his prostate with the constant pressure.

It’s perfect. Kei’s screaming.

All that pours from his mouth is some variation of a plea, and Bokuto’s name, all garbled and thrown together in a torrent of ecstasy dipped words.

“Fuck, FUCK.” Bokuto groans in his ear. “Kei, Kei, _KeiKeiKei.”_ He chants. “Love you…. You’re so good, so tight.” And then he’s planting his feet flat on the ground and Kei’s legs are no longer hooked over the armrests but over Bokuto’s forearms. "I'm gonna fill you up, Tsu- Kei!"

There’s a little bit of an ache in the back of his thighs, but that’s the only reason he notices he’s bent in half, all he can do is be there, completely open for Bokuto to fuck into like he’s just made to pleasure the other ma. “Koutarou, please- pleahhh- please, _please.”_ He calls.

And Bokuto answers by wrapping his hand around Kei’s leaking erection just as he thrusts up hard, straight into his prostate. It's enough it sends Kei's eyes rolling back in his head as he screams Bokuto's name into the dimly lit apartment

He’s all woozy and floaty for a couple of seconds, but his boyfriend isn’t done, and Kei can only whimper weakly, drool running down his chin as Bokuto thrusts for another minute before coming himself, painting Kei’s insides with his warmth.

It takes a while for either of them to recover, Kei feels gross and sticky all over, but he’s also sure he’s more unsteady on his legs than Bambi right now, so he simply curls on his side on Bokuto’s chest and tries to gain back his breath. When he’s decently coherent enough, he notices the TV playing in the background. “We barely made it half the episode.” He muses.

Bokuto hums, a hand coming up to gently brush through Kei’s sweat-soaked hair. “We can keep practicing.” He says. “Maybe when Tetsu and ‘kaashi are here we can try it together.”

“Mmm.” Kei hums sleepily, he’s not sure that would turn out much better. “I don’t think I can walk.” He says finally, mostly because, despite his human furnace of a boyfriend, he’s naked and wet, getting cold by the second. “I love you, Kou." He presses a little kiss to the other's jaw "Get me to the bath?”

The owl just laughs, capturing Kei’s lips in a kiss as his arms wrap around Kei’s waist and knees. “Mmm, gonna do you there too, love you.”

And Kei can only hold on to his shoulders for dear life, excitement swirling in his belly

**Author's Note:**

> So.......  
> Yeah, did yall like that? I hope so.  
> I cant believe.  
> I like Overstim Tsukki, OK?  
> I'd love to read any comments you have
> 
> Love y'all, (a very confused) Kyrye


End file.
